A Desperate Campaign
by Wing Pikepaw
Summary: Root is captured by an unknown human who has only one goal: to learn everything about the People in order to crush them. The Council is taking its time deciding about a rescue attempt, so the LEP must attempt a rescue mission before time runs out.
1. Bad News

**Chapter 1**

**Bad News**

Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon was bored. For the past few months, she had been given the most uninteresting assignments a Recon elf had ever experienced: no aboveground missions or disasters since the last Artemis Fowl thing in Chicago. To her horror, Holly sometimes caught herself wishing for the days when she had piloted shuttles through narrow chutes and trekked through the most distant places on earth with the Mud Boy and his bodyguard Butler. _Do I miss him?_ she had asked herself countless times, before coming to the conclusion that yes, perhaps a little. In truth, Artemis had been the source of most of her excitement and adventure during her term as a Recon officer, and he had grown to something Holly could nearly identify as a true friend before the mind wipe that had sent him, Butler, and Juliet into their old lives. Lives free of memories of the People.

Ending her reminiscences with a firm shake of her head, Holly sealed her visor as she made her way into the dark tunnel ahead. Two renegade goblins from the former B'wa Kell triad were hiding just a few feet around the next bend, according to her Optix x-ray, armed with nothing but spent softnose lasers left over from the rebellion a year and a half ago. Assisted by Chix Verbil, who was reduced to flying shuttles on missions since the injury to his wing, Holly had followed the goblins here and was aiming to capture them. Finally.

"Come on out of there!" Holly called. "You're out of ammo and out of luck, goblins. In the name of the LEP, I order you to come out with your hands up where I can see them."

The only response was a hurled fireball that landed several yards short. Holly rolled her eyes as she drew her Neutrino 200. Goblins. All the same.

She shielded herself automatically, though in the blackness around her it wasn't really necessary. Carefully, she stepped forward. Closer, closer-

"Holly!" Her earpiece crackled as Verbil's voice came through the reception. Holly nearly leapt a foot in the air before realizing what had happened. Lowering her voice to a furious whisper, she replied, "Shut it, Private! I'm trying to corner the hostiles! And since when are you on first name terms with me?"

"Sorry, Cap'," Chix blustered, "but we got ourselves a situation. Real urgent, Foaly says. Code Red an' all that. He says the goblins can wait."

"D'Arvit!" Holly swore. "What's going on? And what did the commander say?"

Strangely, Chix was sounding frightened: an emotion not often associated with the mischievous sprite. "I dunno, Cap'n Short, Foaly didn't say much, but he said he wants us back now. The commander isn't there: Major Kelp had him call us in."

Confused, Holly terminated the connection, stepping out of the tunnel towards the battered shuttle where Chix was waiting. Foaly was right-the goblins could wait. There was something wrong here. She activated a link with Foaly as soon as she entered the shuttle, motioning wordlessly at Verbil to take them out as Foaly's voice buzzed into her headset.

"What's going on?" she said at once, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Hang on," came Foaly's distracted voice. "No-okay, never mind, just checking something. Holly? Are you coming in now? What about the goblins?"

"I thought you wanted me to leave them!" Holly said, exasperated. "What's this whole Code Red thing? Fill me in."

The tech centaur let out a long sigh before answering. "Julius is missing, Holly. He went up E1 to check out some unidentified radio signals I picked up about twenty klicks away from Tara, and I just...lost him."

"Lost him?" Holly demanded. "You mean...?"

"No, no," Foaly hastily assured her. "He's alive-I'm staring at his vitals right now, in fact, thanks to that chip I patented that I insisted we put in every suit. I think we can assume he's been captured, because he's unconscious and without his helmet or gun."

"D'Arvit. This is not good."

"Tell me about it."

Holly tried to remain calm as she replied. "Alright, we'll be there in a minute. Hold off the briefing until we get there."

She switched off her communications link and took the copilot controls in front of her with both hands. "My turn, Private," she told the sprite beside her. "I need to get something out of my system."

The briefing began as soon as Holly and Chix nosed into the docking bay. After saying good-bye to Chix, Captain Short raced for the conference room, slipping into the darkened chamber just as Foaly typed in the commands to project footage onto the screen at the head of the room. Ignoring stares of disapproval, Holly slipped into the empty seat next to Trouble Kelp silently as Foaly began to speak.

"The view up here is feed from Commander Root's helmet cam," he explained as the images flashed past. It was twilight, a beautiful time of day, and the sunset was streaking the sky. Root was apparently not taking any time to admire the view, because the footage flew past unwavering. Foaly hit the fast-forward button after a few moments, scanning the tape until he found the part he was looking for: Root's descent.

"Here," the centaur said, clopping over to the other side of the projector to get a better vantage point. "This is the important part. He lands near where the signal is coming from and moves to enter the forest."

Through the speakers came the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, and, after a few seconds, the commander's growled request for a satellite map of the woods ahead. As they were downloading into his helmet, Root turned quickly and shielded, drawing his tri-barreled blaster as he did so. The LEP officers, all on the edge of their seats, gazed upon a seemingly abandoned stretch of moor that was now in Root's line of vision, but before they could fully comprehend what they were seeing, there was a cracking noise, a slight whine, and then a gasp as Root was hit by whatever projectile had been fired at him.

At that moment, Trouble felt Holly stiffen in her seat beside him, and he glanced worriedly at her. She was staring rigidly at the screen, which Foaly had just paused. The centaur was looking grim. "I figured maybe it was some guy shooting up the woods or a hunter who had missed, because for another five minutes the commander is left alone, but later, we hear footsteps off camera, and we lose video. Someone has him. We're sure."

Trouble felt something in the pit of his stomach contract. Someone had the commander.

"D'Arvit!"

* * *

_A/N: Well, how did everyone like it? It's my first attempt at an Artemis Fowl fanfic-reviews and comments are most welcome indeed. Chapter 2 is nearly finished, actually, so expect that to come soon as well..._  



	2. Pain

**Chapter 2**

**Pain**

Julius Root woke up very slowly, rising groggily from the mists of unconsciousness until he was fully alert. However, he did not open his eyes-this was not a place he was familiar with. He needed to proceed with caution.

Root could remember what had happened vaguely, as if it had happened to someone else and he had been watching it from one side. All that was clear to him was the pain, the great aching pain in his right side. Of course. The shot. Thankfully the bullet's flight had been nearly spent, or he wouldn't have survived such a hit. As it was, his magic was completely tapped, and it felt like it had gone halfway through healing his broken ribs. The internal organs had been dealt with first, thankfully, but the ribs crackled even as he breathed. This was not good.

He could tell that he had been stripped of his gear. Well, he had expected that, though it was a disappointment nonetheless. So he was someone's prisoner now, he guessed. Someone who didn't care enough about their captive to heal him properly. Another bad sign.

Ever so carefully, Julius cracked open one eye just enough to see past the haze of his eyelashes to the space beyond. He could see a wall a foot in front of his nose, a dull steel wall. Some sixth sense left over from the prehistoric times told him that such walls were all around him. He was in a box. Okay. He could deal with that. He'd been through much worse. Still, he wasn't all that happy about the way he was being treated. Ever since he had been promoted to commander, he had kind of gotten used to being treated with a bit more respect than he was being shown now. Deciding he might as advertise his consciousness, he sat up, trying and failing not to injure his ribs any more.

The LEP's youngest-ever full commander observed his surroundings, taking note of the lack of a door, the small light bulb directly overhead, and the standard security camera in the corner. Obviously, his kidnappers wanted him to know he was always being watched. So far, they were not coming off very well in Root's mind.

Suddenly, a hidden speaker crackled to life, a cold voice coming in despite the bad reception. Julius tried not to wince as the harsh sound echoed through the small chamber.

"Ah, you're awake then," said the voice in flawless English untainted by any trace of identifiable accent. "I was most hopeful that you would survive the shot. It seems you are of a hardy race indeed, or perhaps you're just a tougher member of your species?"

Root said nothing. That was an unspoken rule here: don't talk. Don't react in any way. Don't give your enemy the advantage.

"Don't speak English?" the voice inquired in a bored sort of tone. "But of course you do, I forget-you have the gift of tongues, according to legend. I'm curious about such a gift. Can you speak the language of animals as well?"

_Time to break the rule_, Julius told himself silently. Aloud, he grunted, "Who are you?" Though his English was nowhere near the perfection of his kidnapper's, he could, of course, speak it, and he knew a few choice words in it if need be.

The voice laughed: a nasty rasping sound that filled the room and caused Julius to grit his teeth in pain. "Oh, my name doesn't matter here, but you may know that I am one of the creatures that live about the surface of the Earth. One of the beings you so crudely refer to as 'Mud People'. But your name, on the other hand, is _ever_ so important-won't you share it with me?"

Again, Root shut his mouth. He appeared to be outwardly calm, but his mind was racing. _How does this Mud Man know so much? This could be the whole Artemis Fowl thing over again! What am I going to do?_ Not give his name, that was certain, nor any information about the People either. Whatever this human wanted, he would not get it out of Julius Root.

"Mute yet again," the voice sighed. "Come now, let us not be immature. Your name, fairy man, or I shall have to punish you."

_Don't react, Julius…_

"Your _name_." The voice's tone was not so light anymore. It had a metallic note that rang throughout the boxlike room.

_Don't rise to the bait. Don't give him what he wants._

"Very well, if you need some prodding-"

Noise! Horrible, terrible noise. The room seemed to shake as the high-pitched wail of a constant siren blared through the speaker. Root clapped his hands over his pointed ears, but it didn't help. Nothing could stop that. He fell to his knees, unable to contain a very slight whimper as his ribs gave a sharp crack of protest-

And then the noise stopped, filling the air with pure silence. Root lay facedown on the metal floor, allowing the cool surface on his forehead reconstruct his shattered brain until he felt himself capable of thought. _This Mud Man is insane_, he concluded. _I need to get out of here as quickly as possible._

* * *

Several hours later, Julius sat in one corner of the room with his head on his knees, thinking hard. The voice had come back at random moments since its first appearance in this tale, accompanied by the siren when he refused to give it information. The routine was always varied: sometimes the interrogations were minutes apart when other times they were hours; sometimes the siren came first, blaring for a few seconds before the voice made its demands, or else did not come at all; sometimes the voice threatened, sometimes coaxed, sometimes just made conversation, none of which Root replied to. It was an old torturer's trick-keep the prisoner on his toes and ignorant, but always fearing the inevitable pain. 

Julius was holding his own rather well so far. Like all other LEP staff, he was trained to resist pain and torture in different ways, and at the moment he was attempting to ignore the voice by concentrating on an escape plan. It wasn't doing so well, seeing as he couldn't even figure out where the door was. Just the thought was making him claustrophobic.

Suddenly, the wall directly in front of him seemed to stretch into the imprinted shape of a human! Root watched in fascination as the ordinary-seeming gray steel shifted and bubbled, stretching further and further until a tall, muscled human melted from the turmoil into the cell, followed quickly suit by a nearly identical colleague. Painfully, the elf stood and faced them, looking them over.

They were plainly dressed in black tank tops and baggy pants of the same color. Their feet were shod in black Nikes that shone dully in the dim light. Both had shaved heads and a wide variety of tattoos. _Hired muscle, _Julius reasoned. _But,_ he thought to himself with a note of hesitancy, _for what purpose?_

The first man stepped forward and unceremoniously grabbed Root by the front of his uniform, easily pulling him up to eyelevel. The LEP's commander glared back. "What do you want?" he growled, narrowing his eyes as if he were actually in charge of this situation. Wishful thinking.

"I want you to answer a coupla questions, fairy boy, and yer gonna answer 'em, got it?" the man drawled in a distinctive American accent. "Vince, c'mere and talk to our friend."

Root knew what was coming next: _real_ torture. The siren had just been a teaser: the employer of these idiots was going to beat the answers out of him now. There was only one option left. As the second man drew closer, Julius drew upon the faint pulsations of magic from his exhausted store and spoke, his tones layered with the low notes of the _mesmer_. All right, maybe he had taken a leaf out of Holly's book from her first experiences with Mud People, but it was necessary.

"You will not touch me, Mud Boy," Root said. "You will help me escape now."

The second man, Vince, sneered. "You think I'm stupid, dude? No way."

Julius pushed a little harder. Okay, maybe the guy was smarter than he looked. "_Now,_ human."

"You know what?" said the first man. "This guy's starting to annoy me. Vince, shut him up."

"With pleasure, Dex," Vince snickered. He drew back a fist and, before Root could react, punched him in the stomach. Hard. Several more ribs shattered.

The pain was immense, unbelievable. It felt like a wrecking ball had just been driven into his side and had opened a hole that fire ants had just crawled into. Julius could not remember a time when he had hurt more. He thought he screamed, but in the red mists that surrounded his brain, he couldn't be sure.

The commander woke up five minutes later, his whole body one big mass of pain. His magic was absolutely spent, and the henchmen were closing in again. Julius closed his eyes as Dex picked him up.

"What's your name?" he heard the American drawl. His breath smelled strongly of tobacco. "Come on, tell us about yourself. Where are you from? What's your uniform for, huh? You some officer guy?"

Root clamped his mouth shut, preparing himself…

The punch hit him in the jaw. The LEP commander felt himself go flying out of Dex's grip and hitting the wall before blacking out once more, though he knew the blissful unconsciousness would not last long.

The torture had barely even started.

_

* * *

A/N: Ouch, poor Julius! How will he survive? Can Holly save him in time? Tune in next time for the next installment…  
Many thanks to my reviewers! You make my world go 'round...perhaps I'll spin faster if I get more reviews...? (Hint hint) Ah, just a note for all you enraged Root fans foaming at the mouth, um...I make my favorite charries suffer sometimes, okay! So there's no need to go making threats on my life or anything like that, right? Right!  
_

_**Stiggy:** I appreciate your time and your kind review, fellow Root fan…though you probably hate me after this chapter…and yes, of course, I've read the entire series several times, including the Opal Deception. This is set shortly before that, just for future reference. I wanted to talk to you (briefly) about your Root Petition, actually. Look...I want Julius back just as much as you do, but there's two problems with your campaign. (Ha! Campaign! I'm using that word a lot lately!)  
1. Root. Is. Dead. He got blown to shreds and, if that wasn't enough, incinerated in the core of the planet. I really don't think he's coming back. I know it's hard, BELIEVE ME, but...well...let him die with honor, k?  
2. I don't think Eoin Colfer is going to accept a piece of paper with FF pen names on it. Real names might be better in this case, seeing as you could have just made them up randomly. That's true for real names too, but it might be more convincing with actual names.  
Sorry to be so criticising. I still want my name on the petition, by the way!  
_

_**Jakarutia:** Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like my story...though again, you might not so much after this chapter...((hides under bed as angry Root fans smash windows)) I did understand your review fine, thanks, I really do think your English is pretty good. If you ever need any help, feel free to drop me an e-mail. Thanks also for your Korean words of wisdom-you're probably right about the translation too. _

_For the Critics-Just realized that I left out a zero in "Neutrino 2000" in Chapter 1. Sorry about that!  
_

_Until next time, all-Huzzah!  
(For all those who are foreign...more specifically, Korean ((wink wink)), that's weird Master and Commander speech for, in a nutshell, Hooray!)  
_


	3. One Call

**Chapter 3**

**One Call**

Holly woke up feeling just as tired and frustrated as she had gone to sleep. She staggered into the shower, bleary-eyed and yawning, and allowed the hot water to pound her on the forehead. Ah. Much better.

The situation was this: Trouble was promoted to Acting Commander as one of the most senior active officers, and was currently pressing the Council to allow a Retrieval mission. However, as good as his intentions were, he just didn't have the persuasive affect Root had on most people. Few fairies did, actually. The Council was arguing amongst themselves yet again: should they discover the identity of Root's kidnapper before proceeding any further, or should they attempt a rescue at once? Most of the LEP had, of course, opted for the latter, but their opinions didn't count in the Council's minds.

_What's their problem, anyway?_ Holly asked herself exasperatedly for the hundredth time. _Isn't the answer obvious?_

But apparently not-the Council was taking their own sweet time about the decision, and nothing Holly could say or do would change that. Then again, Holly could do a few things that could help her commander, with or without the Council's permission, and she had Foaly and Trouble supporting her as well. The three had been in unspoken accord since the briefing had broken up, and Holly was anxious to put that partnership into action.

However, Foaly beat her to it: as she was opening the door to leave for work, his voice came in through her helmet link, his tone whispered and rushed. "Hi Holly, don't have much time right now, but can you come to the Ops Booth right after you check in?"

Captain Short thought it over. "Um…sure, I don't have any urgent assignments today. Why?"

The tech centaur was sounding very excited now. "I've got a great lead-you have to come as quickly as possible. Got to go, hurry up and don't let anyone see you coming." He ended the conversation immediately.

"Bye, Foaly," Holly said absently, quickening her pace. A lead? There could only be one thing Foaly was investigating. The commander.

She arrived at the Operations Booth a few minutes late, having been held up in rush hour by visiting regional crunchball gnomes who apparently were rather well-known, and nearly the entire district had come to see them. An extremely irritated Holly had pushed her way through the crowd regardless of fame, flipping her badge at those who muttered complaints and simply glaring at the rowdy ones who refused to move. A mere glance into those fiery hazel eyes persuaded even the dullest civilian to step aside. Holly was not in a good mood.

Foaly was plugging a blue-colored box into the main system when Holly entered. Trouble was also present, surprisingly, seeing as he was very much in demand these days, and his abashed expression told of a rebuke he had received from Foaly, most likely because of ill treatment of the computers. They both looked up and nodded when they saw the newcomer. Holly took off her helmet and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Well, Foaly? What's this all about?"

The centaur leaned over the box to type a quick command on the keyboard. "Well, Holly, we have a new development. See, before he left, I gave the commander a new earpiece, one that's virtually undetectable unless you take it out in just the right way. It's a two-way receiver, seeing as I designed it to pick up vocal vibrations in the air when the person speaks as well as broadcast whatever the person on the other end says into this baby here."

He patted the box fondly.

"Assuming the commander is still wearing it, we can get in touch with him. I almost forgot about it until now-obviously, I haven't patented it yet, so I didn't want to use it unless there was an emergency," Foaly finished, adjusting his tinfoil hat as he did so.

Trouble gaped. "So-So you mean we can talk with the commander, right now? Will it work?"

"Do pixies fly?"

"But this is great!" Holly burst out, smiling her first real smile since the awful news of yesterday. "Do you think we could even track the signal? We could keep calling until we pinpoint his exact location, and then we could go in."

Foaly was suddenly somber. "But that's the thing-it's one-time use only. Whatever we have to say, we say it in one conversation. There's even a possibility that the commander doesn't know anything about where he's being kept or who kidnapped him, in which case we've wasted the call except to see how he's doing. And we can check up on him anyway like this-"

He drew up another window and punched in some commands. In another instant, they were all staring at Root's vital signs. Foaly read them carefully, brow furrowing as he spoke. "Hmm…heartbeat is extremely elevated. He's feeling some very strong emotion right now, but I can't say what, obviously."

"One call?" said Holly, crestfallen. "But that's not nearly enough…can't he power it up again with magic?"

"Nope," Foaly replied, gesturing at the screens. "See for yourself-he's completely out of magic. Not a spark. And no, we can't track it: it's linked to his locater, which has been deactivated by his captor, presumably."

"Aah, D'Arvit!" Captain Kelp swore irritably. "I say we make the call anyhow. We need to know what's going on right now, no matter the risk."

Frowning, Holly began, "But Trouble, don't you think we should-"

"No, I don't think we should," he said shortly. "And that's Acting Commander Kelp to you, Captain."

Foaly stifled a smile as he connected the last few wires. Trouble was sounding like someone else he knew…and, the centaur realized grimly, might not see again if they didn't find him soon. The elf was right. "I agree," he told Holly seriously. "We don't need anyone else present besides us, and we do need to talk to him as soon as possible. We can't predict when he's going to have information, either: we're going to have to make an assumption."

With a start, Holly realized the two were waiting for her to say something before they went on any further. She sighed, but nodded. "Hook us up, Foaly."

The centaur pushed a few buttons and sat back. The two LEP officers waited behind him, holding their breaths as the signal sought to connect…

And then the signal light turned green. Slowly, sounds of ragged breathing came in through the speakers mounted on the walls next to the monitors. Foaly took a deep breath and said one word.

"Julius?"

No response from the other end. Trouble stepped forward, speaking slightly louder.

"Commander? Commander Root, sir? This is Trouble Kelp. Do you read me, sir?"

Still no response from the other end. The sounds of breathing continued haltingly. Holly looked worriedly at her two companions and bent over the microphone built into the control panel of the computer, willing the commander to hear her with every fiber of her being.

"Commander. This is Captain Short calling from Haven, sir. We need you to make contact with us immediately. Repeat, make contact with us immediately." She added softly, "We need you, Julius."

It was then that a voice emanated from the speakers, low, hoarse, and strained, but unmistakably the commander's.

"Holly? That…you?"

"Yes sir, it's me." Holly grasped the microphone tightly as she said it. "I'm speaking through your earpiece, the one Foaly gave you before you left. Are you all right?"

The answer came in short phrases at a time, as if it hurt Root to say them. "So the pony…is good…for something," he chuckled weakly. "I'm not…alright, though, hurt…hurt bad by…two Mud Men. I dunno who…they're working…for…" His voice trailed off.

"You're hurt, sir?" Holly repeated. "Were they…" She took a deep breath, then went on. "Were they looking for information?"

"Yeah," grunted Root. "Whoever has me...wants to know about the People. They want to know badly. I haven't...haven't told them...anything."

Trouble let out a sigh of relief, taking a step forward as if to speak, but Foaly motioned him back with a jerk of his hand. When the captain looked at him inquiringly, the centaur mouthed, _She has him focused. Wait._

Holly shot a worried look at her companions. This was extremely bad, if the human wanted to know about the People. She kept her voice gentle and even, though, as she replied to the commander. "Do you have any idea where you are, sir?"

The response came back clear and sharp. "When are you cleared to come find me?"

The LEP captain let out a hiss of breath, plunging on despite the bad news the answer carried. "I don't know, sir. The Council hasn't given us permission to do anything yet." Before Root could reply, she added fiercely, "But we'll come, commander, I promise. Whatever the Council says, we're coming, and it'll be soon."

Unable to stay quiet any longer, Trouble burst out, "I'm doing the best I can, sir, and more, but it's not good enough for the Council! They just keep arguing and bickering, and they're nowhere near making any sort of decision. I agree with Holly-if they don't say something we want to hear soon, I'm coming myself, permission or no."

There was a long pause on the other end, and when the reply came, all present had to lean slightly towards the speakers to hear Root's quiet response.

"I know you would, both of you. You're good officers, you two, and...I'm proud of you."

And, as Foaly would later reflect, that meant more to Captains Short and Kelp than anything the Council could or would ever say.

_Aaaaaaaaaaand cut people, that's a wrap...aw, cute ending, if I do say so myself. So, ahem-basically, Julius is still hanging around twiddling his thumbs somewhere with a bunch of broken ribs that um...miraculously did not puncture anything vital...and Holly and Trouble are sitting around biting their nails and twiddling _their_ thumbs waiting for some word from the idiots who call themselves the Council. _

_Gawd, what was the point of this chapter?_

_Haha, never mind, thanks loads to me wonderful reviewers who took some time to hit the button and make my day slightly brighter!_

_**Jakarutia**: I'm so touched...someone actually likes my torture scenes...you have such a sick mind! How could anyone like MY torture! Just kidding, kidding!  And I'd love to see your drawings, bearing in mind what I said on one of my reviews of your story-did you try my other e-mail, wing pikepaw redwall .net ?(Without spaces, of course)_

_**Trouble Kelp:** Thank you Trouble! And NO, don't worry, I have no intention of making poor Julius undergo any more pain than he has to._

_Julius: D'Arvit!_

_Me: Haha, you get to get beat up...((points and laughs))_

_Julius: It better not get any worse than that._

_Me: Oh, I don't know, you might have some more coming..._

_Julius: _D'ARVIT. _((borrows Stiggy's baseball bat and whacks author, rendering him unconscious))_

_**Stiggy:** Don't worry, Vince and Dex will get their due...all in good time, all in good time. ((smiles maliciously)) Don't hit them too hard now, I need them for later-but after what they did to Julius, I suppose a few broken bones can't hurt _too_ badly. Thanks for the review and the time, hope you enjoyed Chapter 3!_

_Once again, reviewers, you rock, sorry for the wait! Chapter 4 is nearly done, so don't panic-I'll update quite soon._


	4. Schemes

**Chapter 4**

**Schemes**

Root sat under the camera in his cell, aware that it could still only see his boots. He had preferred to not be watched lately, and the underside of the camera provided a fairly good blind spot. Unfortunately, the camera was rotated every fifteen minutes to the nearest source of heat, so he didn't have much time where he was.

As the elf shifted position ever so slightly, his ribs gave an ominous creak, reminding him of his grim condition. The two hired men had beaten him up pretty badly, shattering several of his teeth, bruising his collarbone, and breaking a few more ribs. It was sheer good luck that the sharp ends of the bones hadn't hit anything vital, but Julius was aware that they could if he moved them wrong. He had torn up the tunic beneath his LEP uniform to make a rough bandage, setting the bones himself in what he fervently hoped were roughly the right positions before tying the strips of cloth tightly about his torso-an operation that had taken most of his courage to perform. A simple movement alone hurt enough: to actually purposefully try and move the ribs in order to set them was pure agony. But he had gritted his teeth and done it, careful to make sure that only a faint groan of pain passed his lips. He didn't want to give his jailer the satisfaction of seeing him hurt.

But in fact, he had been on the brink of giving up before the call from Haven had come in. The sound of his officers' voices had pierced through the haze of pain and confusion surrounding his brain and cleared his mind, which had not stopped whirring since Foaly, Holly, and Trouble had reluctantly said good-bye. The fact that they had used up the one call they had had admittedly lowered the commander's spirits, but the knowledge that the LEP was not giving up on him gave him the drive to begin the makings of a plan.

So far, the possibilities were very few, to say it bluntly. The door through which the two Americans had entered was one-way only, and of course there were no windows or other forms of entry or exit throughout the tiny room. Julius had absolutely no idea where he was geographically, or who his captors were besides the two men he had already met. Though they were, of course, American, it was doubtful that the mastermind behind this plot (whom Julius figured to be The Voice over the intercom) would expose natives to the prisoner himself.

Root was staring hard at his left boot, deep in thought, when one wall stretched in a human shape again. Dreading what was to come, Julius took several deep breaths, tightening his bandages without realizing fully what he was doing. A small, hopeful corner of his brain was praying that the humans about to enter the room would not be Vince and Dex, but the pessimistic part had already confirmed the fact by the time they entered. Julius glared defiantly at them, unwilling to show any sort of fear. Dex seemed to find this quite amusing.

"Hey, look, Vince, we beat him like a dawg an' he still doesn't seem t'get it," the big man drawled, cracking his knuckles meaningfully.

"Yeah, he needs to learn some respect," Vince agreed with a grin glittering with cheap fillings. "Just one punch…?"

Julius was surprised and relieved to see Dex shaking his bald head ruefully.

"Nah, the boss says we gotta let him out peaceful-like, but if he tries anything, we can teach him a few things." Dex sniggered. "So fairy, go ahead and try me. Let's see whatcha got."

Root's face grew a shade redder as he replied, "Give me back my gear, Mud Idiot, and you'll see a few things you won't forget in a hurry. If you even knew where my gear was."

Dex leaned forward and casually punched the commander on the nose. Julius recoiled and grimaced at the blood running sluggishly down his face. He lifted a hand to wipe it away, but Vince, who had come up behind his partner, caught his arm and expertly twisted it behind his back, binding his other hand tightly to it with a length of twine as Dex pushed his meaty face up close to Julius's now-bloodstained one, his foul breath puffing into the elf's face.

"Let me get somefin' straight, fairy: I could take you with one hand. Face it-without your little pals, you're nothing. A loser. An' secondly, I know your gear's in the boss's lab, so don't tell me I don't know summat when I do."

Vince dragged his colleague away, face screwed up with disgust. "Yew idiot!" he yelled. "Now he knows somet'ing! Shuddup unless you got any other things t'spill, doofus."

Dex frowned. He didn't like being called names. "Hey, watch it, _pal_," the bigger man growled. "I kin take you too, and by the time I'm through, the fairy man here is gonna look like the picture of health, if you know what I mean."

They quarreled about who was capable of "taking" who for another minute or so before getting back on task. Vince grabbed one of Root's shoulders roughly and shoved him towards the door, which he pressed his hand against for a few seconds until the steel glowed green where his palm touched. Julius, who had been unconscious when the two left after their first visit, watched carefully, but was disappointed to see the procedure: the exit was obviously programmed to accept certain DNA strands. Before Vince pushed through, he pulled a dirty rag from one pocket and, before Root could realize what was happening, blindfolded the captive and pushed him through the stretching steel.

Realizing they had made a mistake in allowing him to go first, the commander stepped off to one side quickly, hoping against hope that he was at least partially concealed, seeing as he couldn't look for himself. His hopes were dashed, however, when Dex's callused palm gripped the back of his neck and steered him down some hidden stretch of hallway. Julius tried to keep track of how many turns they made, but without his usual aide of vision, the task was nearly impossible. He soon gave up and allowed himself to be guided, keeping quiet so his other senses could pick up any useful information.

Finally, Julius heard a door open, and he was directed through. Vince's voice, strangely respectful all of a sudden, came from behind and to the left of him.

"We brought 'im, boss."

A cold voice which Root instantly recognized as The Voice from back in his cell came from deeper in the room, and he had to fight to suppress a slight shiver. "Did he give you any trouble?"

The voice that answered was Dex's. "Just his smart mouth at the start, but we shut him up like you told us to."

The Voice sighed patiently. "I told you not to damage him any more than necessary, Dex. He's already in bad condition as it is-I thought I told you specifically to not extend the interrogation as long as you did. What do you think I'm paying you for? He's an absolute mess: that blood will stain the carpet, too!"

"Sorry, boss."

"You should be. Now, take off the blindfold: there is no need for secrecy here, nor restraints. Then leave us."

The LEP's commander braced himself as the rag around his eyes and the twine circling his wrists were undone and light flooded his senses. He blinked several times before realizing he was in a recreation of some sort of trophy room that humans seemed to care so much for: the walls were decorated with the stuffed heads of various endangered species from around the world, and the walls were a high quality wood that matched the tasteful interior decorating, which included a pool table in one corner and several matching pieces of furniture huddled near the massive fireplace. But when his vision cleared completely, Julius had eyes only for his captor.

He was a tall man in his fifties, trim and fit despite his age with dark hair streaked with silver. He wore a plain yet fashionable brown suit complete with Oxford loafers, and a pair of spectacles about his neck. To the casual observer, he could have been any ordinary businessman from a wide variety of countries, but Root could tell from the cold glint in his steel gray eyes that this Mud Man was much more than he seemed. More in a very bad way.

When his hired men had cleared the room, the gentleman sat down in a fat armchair with its back to the fire. He smiled pleasantly at the elf standing near the door and gestured to a couch, obviously indicating that he should sit.

"I'll stand," his prisoner said shortly. He had no desire to sit on the illegal fur that cushioned the seat.

"Sit down." It was a command, not a request, and the Book dictated that a fairy must follow a human's wishes while in his dwelling. With an internal sigh, Root sat, keeping his torso stiff so as not to damage his ribs any further.

"I do apologize for the way Dexter and Vincent treated you," the man said, his gaze traveling over his captive. "They were not intended to hurt you any more than necessary."

Ignoring this obviously untrue statement, Root went right to the point. "What's your reason for keeping me here, human? I'm tired of getting _interrogated_, as you put it, when I don't know why you want the information."

The man nodded. "I see you are an elf of action, my friend. That reminds me-what did you say your name was, from one of our lovely conversations?"

"I didn't, and I'm not your friend." Root's hard gaze bored into his captor's.

Sighing, the human said, "Well, if you must insist on the 'tough guy act', to put it crudely, we can skip that information. I, too, am hesitant to give my full title, but for now you may call me Master."

Root bristled, his temper flaring. "Oh yes? Just who do you think you are, Mud Man? Do you have any idea what you're up against?"

"Actually, I do," said the man calmly and casually. "I've learned quite a lot about you from this." He waved a handful of papers that had been at the small table at his side. "Artemis Fowl's complete records of 'The People', as you call yourselves. I've been monitoring his dealings with you until you mind-wiped him-fascinating technology, simply _fascinating_, by the way-and it was quite easy to hack into his database and copy his files concerning your kind before your tech wizard, Foaly, deleted them all. Standard procedure, I understand."

Julius said nothing, allowing this information to sink in. This was disastrous if the human was actually telling the truth-which, it sounded like, he was. He frowned. "Foaly said it was easier than he expected to get into Fowl's files…" he said slowly, half to himself.

"Of course, of course," the dark-haired man replied cheerfully. "I loosened the security a bit when I tapped into his hard drives. Quite amusing, that little Artemis Fowl, don't you think? So, you know Foaly, do you? That would make you…hmm…perhaps Commander Root, or Captain Kelp?"

Root froze, furious at himself. He had let something slip. Carefully, he returned the inquiring stare, unwilling to say more.

Now the man was shuffling through his papers. After a moment's pause, he held aloft a regular Polaroid in delight, smiling like a small child with a new toy. "Here-a frame from one of his security recordings. You're the one he had a conference with, the commander. Welcome, then, Commander Root."

Grinding his teeth furiously as his coloring darkened a shade that wobbled dangerously close to crimson, the recognized commander hung his head in defeat.

"Now we can have a proper conversation," the human purred triumphantly. "Well, you were wondering about my reason for having you here. You see, I head a very important industry-mining. I mine all sorts of elements, from gold to uranium, and, as you can tell from my facilities, I have gathered quite an extent of funds. Enough to be able to think ahead."

Julius lifted his head sharply, wincing as the sudden movement jarred his ribs. Despite the pain, he was all ears.

"It has always been my ambition to be the best of the best, the top, the head," the man continued, now gazing into the fire. "I've been doing some thinking, and from what I figure, such a position cannot be merely the president of a successful mining company." He lifted his head, and for a moment his eyes burned as if the very flame he had been staring at had been transferred into his gaze. "Such a position is leader of the world."

Unimpressed by the dramatic effect the human had hoped to cause, Root raised an eyebrow, folding his arms gingerly over his injured chest.

"Absurd, I know," the gentleman laughed softly, turning his eyes back to the fireplace. "Or so it sounds. As unattainable as it may seem, I believe my carefully thought out plan can take me there. Name me any two things I would need to conquer the world, anything."

The commander thought it over. There was no harm in answering, so he said, "I'd say money and troops. You'd need a lot of both, though."

"Precisely," replied that cool voice. "Money for me is not a problem: I am one of the richest men in the world. Troops, however, are. I have workers who man my mines, of course, but their numbers are not enough. With twice the people, I could first clear my mines of materials to use for weaponry, and then be able to march on any country I chose. There would be great loss of life, I know, but I have no personal attachments to the people I have chosen to become the other half of my army."

A cold wind passed over Julius's heart as he realized what the Mud Man meant. "No," he breathed, unable to believe it.

"Yes!" The man said, up and pacing in his fever now, his steps fast and heavy. "The fairies. Smaller, no doubt, than the common man, but tough, hardy, intelligent, and armed with advanced technology that can help my dream become realized. When I realized what Artemis Fowl was up to, I had an opportunity, and I took it. You see, I have greater armaments than any machine your race can come up with: I _know_ you, know your strengths and weaknesses, and, most of all, I know how to control you. I've even proved it-you're sitting here, aren't you?"

The awful realization that the Mud Man was telling the truth hit home, and Julius slumped in his seat as terrible images flashed through his mind. Fairies forced to labor in the bowels of the earth, destroying the planet in order to obtain deadly substances, exposed to hard work, extreme temperatures, lack of oxygen, and abuse. The People carrying modified weapons into battle against their own will, being shot down by humans who vastly outnumbered them, who scorned them and took pleasure in killing them. And eventually, a broken people being slaughtered when they were no longer of any use to this man, this evil being who sat in front of him and so calmly outlined this chaos.

All his fault. If he hadn't been captured, none of this could happen.

"I won't tell you anything!" he snarled, eyes blazing hatred. "I'd rather die than betray the People. I'd rather die."

The man stared at him for a long time, quite expressionless, eyes fixed on the elf who was glaring daggers back. Finally, he said softly, "That will come eventually, commander. And before it does, you'll tell. You'll be begging for death in the end, screaming for mercy, spilling your precious secrets just to make the pain stop. Just to make you die. And then, before I kill you, we'll talk again, and we'll see how willing you are you cooperate at that point."

He raised his voice so that the two bodyguards outside could hear. "Dexter! Vincent! Take the prisoner back to his cell."

Julius Root stood, a dangerous smile on his face, ignoring the two hired men who burst into the room and made a beeline for him. Pulling free of their grip for a moment, he stepped forward so his face was inches away from his captor's and said through gritted teeth, "I may die, but anything I have to say will die with me, fool. You may know the laws of the fairies, but you don't know the hearts of their people. I'll see you in hell when your plan fails, scum, and I won't be helpless then."

It was then that Vince brought a punishing fist down on his head, and he collapsed into unconsciousness._

* * *

A/N: Why is it always unconsciousness...?_

_Readers, you will be glad to know I have already planned out the rescue attempt and written possibly the sweetest, cutest little chapter of my work. I was nearly crying while attempting to sneak it in American History seventh period._

_**Holly Short: **Thanks so much for your wonderful review: I was quite touched by your comments and will definitely follow up on that. Sorry for my inactivity up at the 'Fowl Awards there, will return..._

_**the Thirteenth Councilor: **Hello once again! Thanks for taking the time to read my other stories, I really appreciate it. Hope you found Chapter 4 interesting...it's the evil plan! Mwahaha! (Note I put some serious thought into The Evil Plan, don't criticize it now or I may have to break Julius out and send him to you with a large gun)_

_Julius: So-you mean I get to be let out?_

_Me: Sorry, pal, it's right back in the slammer before Chapter 5 comes out..._

_**Emaris: **Why, thank you, welcome to my weird little world-so glad you enjoyed my story. Please do review again._

_Until next time, ladies an' gents-_

_Huzzah for Julius! Let's hope he didn't break anything else!_


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